Free Never Go Back by Robert Goddard Page B

staircase. His face was flushed, sweat sheening his upper lip. His gaze was skittering and unfocused.
    ‘This stuff goes straight to your head, doesn’t it?’ said Harry, raising his glass.
    ‘It’s not that,’ said Lloyd huskily. ‘Bloody vertigo. Came over me while I was standing by the parapet. And not just vertigo either. Something… weird.’
    ‘Tapper said you’d… been up here before.’
    ‘Feels like it.’ Lloyd shook his head. ‘God, this is… the strangest bloody thing.’
    ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’
    ‘No. Matter of fact, I’m… sure I’m not.’
    ‘You’ve had a long hard day, Jabber. You’re probably just tired. We’re not as young as we were.’
    ‘Have you been up here before, Ossie?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Sure?’
    ‘Absolutely. It was always kept locked.’
    ‘Yeah. It was, wasn’t it? So, how did I get up here?’
    ‘Maybe you didn’t. We’ve all experienced déjà vu. It doesn’t mean—’
    ‘This means something.’ Lloyd drained his glass. ‘You can take my word for that.’ He pushed himself away from the wall and clasped Harry by the elbow, swaying slightly as he did so. ‘Do me a favour, will you, Ossie?’
    ‘Sure.’
    ‘Apologize to the others for me. I’m going down to my room. I need a lie-down. Might skip dinner. Ask them to send me up a sandwich later. I’d be sorry to, er, miss out on the… grand supper, but… I just can’t… at the moment…’ Lloyd’s hand fell back to his side. ‘I just can’t. OK?’
    ‘OK, Jabber. They’ll understand. You take it easy.’
    ‘Thanks. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I just need to rest.’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘Yeah. A rest. OK. Thanks. I’ll, er, see you, Ossie.’
    Lloyd turned and started down the stairs, taking each step with exaggerated care, his hand grasping the rail tightly, like a man negotiating a ship’s companionway in a storm. But there was no storm. Unless it was inside his head.
    —«»—«»—«»—
    Harry was never to speak to him again.

TWELVE
    Dinner that night, planned by Dangerfield as the high spot of the weekend, never quite lived up to its billing. The quality and quantity of the food and drink could not be faulted and Dangerfield did his best to jolly them along. But Lloyd’s absence — and the shadow cast by Askew’s death — took a perceptible toll. There was also the question of their stamina, both mental and physical. Harry suspected he was not alone in running short of amusing recollections of life at Kilveen in 1955, nor in yearning for a beer and a light snack followed by an early night, instead of fine wine, haute cuisine and a soak in the bar until the small hours.
    His suspicion was confirmed when Gregson headed for bed as soon as dinner was over. Dr Starkie soon followed. Then Erica made her excuses and left them to it. Harry felt he had done his duty when the longcase clock in the lounge adjoining the bar struck midnight. Judd had just proposed a few rounds of a game called Cardinal Puff they had sometimes played at the Macbeth Arms to decide who would buy the next round. Harry could not recall the rules, but was certain it was a bad idea. With slurred accusations of cowardice ringing in his ears, he took himself off.
    —«»—«»—«»—
    He woke late next morning, no more than mildly hung over and relieved to realize that the reunion had nearly run its course. He would stay until Monday and travel back to London on the train with the others because that was the easy option. The truth was, however, as he explained in a phone call to Donna, that he would rather clear out straight away.
    ‘I guess Barry was the biggest draw. I’d have enjoyed seeing him again, despite all the bad turns he’s done me. If I’d known he wasn’t going to show up, well, I’m not sure I’d have bothered.’
    ‘You’ll be glad you went in the end, hon. You know you will. There’ll be the pics to laugh at for a start. Taken many?’
    ‘Pics?’
    ‘You did buy a